National Treasure Redux v4
by White N Nerdy
Summary: REPOST-sort of. It's the film “National Treasure” with a fresh new twist. Ian has kidnapped Riley outside of Ben’s dad’s house...and all Abigail wants is the Declaration, even if it means selling out her new friends.
1. Have Some Common Sense

**National Treasure: Redux v4**

_Rated T for violence and language._

**Foreword**

_This is part four of my "National Treasure: You Pick the Adventure" aka "National Treasure: A Different Kind of Adventure" repost. The story was first posted throughout June of 2008 and deleted early in November. I'm reposting the storylines into separate stories, by request from the many people who read and enjoyed the original story during its brief four month run here on the site. Please read and review again, even if you did last time. Thank you :)_

I know, I know, you're all sick of this first chapter. Hell, I'm sick of this chapter. Just skip it and go to the next one…

**Chapter I: Have Some Common Sense**

Riley threw open the back door to his old red van and tossed the roll of duct back in amongst the mess of wires and computer parts. Stupid duct tape, wasted on Ben's stupid dad. Riley really wished Ben would have agreed to use the tape on the mean Declaration lady. She practically stole the show with the whole invisible code on the back of the Declaration of Independence thing. She wasn't even supposed to be on their treasure hunt. But now, just cause she knew what a…a whatever cipher it was, Ben thought she was great.

Stupid Ben. Stupid Ben's dad. Stupid mean Declaration lady.

Riley grumbled angrily to himself as he reached into his van to get his laptop. Ben had said get the necessities, but Riley found it hard to part with any of his stuff. He'd practically lived out of his technologically pimped out ride since college when Ben invited him on his search for the Templar Treasure. Now he had to leave it here, tucked away in the dark corner of some parking lot a few blocks from Ben's dad's house just waiting for the feds to come pick it up. And Riley would never see it again.

On top of everything else, it was dark and cold outside, and Riley had left his jacket in the Gates' stuffy house. He was shivering, even with his hoodie still on. He absentmindedly glanced at his watch and groaned. It was after two o'clock in the morning. Way past Riley's bed time. And Riley knew, that Ben knew, that if Riley didn't get a good night's sleep, then Riley would be _very_ unhappy later.

He was wallowing in his own self pity so deeply that he didn't hear another car approaching until it was practically on top of him. He turned and immediately paled when he saw that he recognized the shiny catering van. It was a van with the words "Olympus" written in large blue letters on the sides that had he'd chased all over Washington D.C. That was Ian's van and it was coming, right at him, really fast…

"Holy crap!"

Riley reacted in a second, hopping up and into his van with a yelp, barely managing to get out of harm's way as Ian's vehicle stopped an inch away from Riley's van's bumper.

As soon as the disguised catering van came to a screeching halt three figures leapt out, leaving only the driver and front passenger inside. One of the three moved to the driver's seat of Riley's van, while the remaining two pushed their way into the back and slammed the door shut behind them.

"Hello there, Riley. Did Ben finally come to his senses and abandon you?"

Riley gulped. Ian and his most trusted henchman, Shaw, were staring him down. "No, no…I, uh, actually have to bring him some stuff, so I should probably get going…"

He started to get up but was shoved back down by Shaw's strong hand. Ian fished Riley's keys out of his hoodie pocket and passed them to the front. Then the engine started and the whole van pitched forward.

"Hey! Don't you guys have your own getaway car? Now you've gotta steal mine too?"

"Shut up, Riley," Ian barked.

"What? No way! I—"

But Riley's mouth snapped shut as Ian pulled a gun seemingly out of nowhere.

"Well if you're so eager to speak all the time, why don't you tell me what, exactly, our friend Ben has found on the Declaration."

"I, uh... …we found…nothing?" Riley tried sitting up again in an attempt to get out of the way of Ian's pistol, but was shoved onto this back again by Shaw, much harder this time. But Riley didn't like being shoved, or man handled in any form, so he batted at Shaw's large hands and kicked spastically at him, all the while yelling, "Hey! Quit it, man…get off me!"

Shaw did move away, but only so Ian could bash Riley across the cheek with the handle of his gun. Riley's head snapped to the side and he saw stars for a moment. Then suddenly he was being man handled again as his arms were pulled roughly behind him and forced together at his wrists with what he could only assume was his own duct tape. What a waste.

Ian shoved him onto his back again and Riley blinked up at him. He vaguely remembered wearing his glasses but suddenly they were gone and now the right side of his face was stinging painfully where he'd been pistol whipped. "What's your problem, man…" he slurred.

"I'll ask you again," Ian demanded. "What did Ben find on the Declaration?"

"I dunno," Riley muttered. He really wanted to pass out all of a sudden and ignore his aching cheek. Shaw yanked him up by his hair and he was jerked awake.

"Come on, Riley," Ian growled. "I know how much you love to run that mouth of yours, now why don't you tell me what I need to know and you won't get hurt."

Riley's terrified gaze met Ian's and he saw that the British man was serious. Dead serious. He swallowed hard. "Uh, it was just a…a bunch of numbers…some kind of cipher…I don't remember what it was though." He felt bad giving away even this much, but it wasn't enough for Ian to go by, and Riley was telling the truth when he said he didn't remember the numbers or what exactly they were for. He did remember having to go to Philadelphia, but Ian didn't need to know that.

"It was another clue? I thought it was supposed to be the map?"

Riley tried to shrug, but stopped when he realized how badly his shoulders hurt from his arms being pulled behind him. "So…if that was it, you can let me go right? And my van of course."

Ian sighed and shook his head. "No, I think it would be best for everyone if you stayed with us."

Riley blinked. "Um…what?"

"I need some sort of insurance. A bargaining chip if you will. Ben has the Declaration, and all the clues. I am clearly at a disadvantage. But this is where Ben and I differ—he cares too much, and I'm sure he will gladly give up any information he has in return for your safety. Frankly, I don't care what happens to you."

"What?! But…come on, Ian. We-we're buddies, right? You buy me a new computer, I help you and Ben out with treasure stuff. I-I let you beat me at poker. It's a win-win situation that seems to have worked for a while now and I think we should stick with it and—"

"Do you know what your problem is?"

Riley blinked at him, his mind still a little sluggish from the blow to his face. "That I'm so much smarter and better looking than you?" If he had, in fact, been completely conscious of his situation, he most likely would have said something else.

"No," Ian growled, apparently not amused by the comment. "It's your big mouth."

Riley jumped at a loud ripping sound coming from somewhere behind him. Before he could even respond, Shaw had reached around him with the duct tape and pulled a strip taught over his lips and around his head.

"That's better," he said smugly.

Ian nodded and grinned maniacally down at Riley, who glared miserably back up at him.

"Aw, don't look so down, kid. It's a win-win situation, after all. You don't say anything and I don't feel annoyed enough to kill you..."

Ian looked like he might have wanted to gloat some more, but he was suddenly interrupted by the rumble of a vibrating phone. Riley's eyes widened as he felt the small object in his jeans pocket. It must have been Ben, probably wondering what was taking so long. Ben would help him, Riley was sure of it.

Ian nodded to Shaw who patted down Riley's hips to find the phone. Riley shivered as hands snuck down his sides and reached into his pockets. Soon the little vibrating device was found and Shaw tossed it to Ian, who flipped it open.

* * *

"Benjamin Franklin Gates! I can't _believe_ you are doing this. You know, I hope they catch you…maybe then you'll finally learn your lesson!"

Ben rolled his eyes. "Yeah sure dad," he said as he found the book he was looking for nestled between some old history books. He was quick to hide it in his jacket. "Thank you Thomas Payne…"

"What? What did you say?" Patrick twisted himself as much as he could to see his son behind him.

"Nothing, dad." Ben moved to face his father, holding the remote control for the television out to his free hand. "I'm sorry about this, I really am, but it's something I have to do. Just…" he sighed. "Take care, dad."

With that he left the living room where his father was sitting, confined to his chair with a soda in one hand and the television remote in the other. Ben met Abigail in the entrance hall to the home and grinned disarmingly at her. She raised her eyebrows at him, clearly showing her disapproval of his plan.

"And you'd better take damn good care of that Declaration!"

"We will," Ben called back to his father. Abigail just shook her head.

Ben spied an old coat hanging on a hook near the door and fished through the pockets. "Aha," he said triumphantly, a set of car keys out. He held the door open and gentlemanly gestured for Abigail to go first. She did, sending Ben a smile that he hoped was more playful than criticizing.

"And now you're stealing your father's car," she said accusingly as Ben unlocked the doors to Patrick's Cadillac with the click of a button.

"Well we can't very well take Riley's van anymore, I think that would be a _little_ obvious." He paused just before getting into the driver's seat. "Where is he anyway?"

"Are you supposed to pick him up?"

"He was just getting his laptop and whatever else he needed. He's _supposed_ to meet us back at the house. But that was almost fifteen minutes ago."

"You do realize the FBI are on their way. _Right now_."

"Yes, thank you, I do realize we are in a hurry." Ben sighed, slightly annoyed now, though he wasn't sure who he was more annoyed at—Riley for not coming back to the house or Abigail for being as condescending as she was. "Get in. We're going to pick him up."

Ben sped down the few blocks to the lot where they had left the van, constantly checking his rearview mirror for flashing lights or any FBI looking vehicles. He really, _really_ didn't want to get caught now. Not with the stolen Declaration of Independence and a possible hostage. He wondered what Dr. Chase was even thinking of all this. She'd been happily surprised to see that Ben was right about the back of the document, and now it seemed she wanted to be as involved in the treasure hunt as he and Riley were. The more he thought about it, the more he figured that it wasn't exactly a bad thing to have her hanging around.

He circled the lot, drove around the park, checked every shadowed alleyway in the vicinity but saw no sign of Riley's van.

"Damn it, Riley," Ben muttered.

"Do you think he got cold feet?"

Ben shook his head. Abigail didn't know him well enough to think he would just chicken out and disappear like that. Riley was fiercely loyal to Ben and would always be there for him, unless something happened…

Ben didn't think twice. He pulled his phone out and used his speed dial to call Riley's cell. It rang once, twice…with a click it was answered.

"Riley, where are you? Where's the van?" he said quickly before Riley could even get a word out.

"Slow down, Ben," said a very un Riley like voice. Ben paled and Abigail sent him a concerned look. "Riley's right here. We're taking him and his van for a little ride."

"Ian," Ben growled. Abigail gasped, recognizing the name as being the man that had nearly kidnapped her for the Declaration. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Insurance, Ben. You've managed to hold on to the document and seen the back of it, which puts you a few steps ahead in our little game. I just thought I would even out the score a little."

Ben groaned. He couldn't give up the Declaration, or the new clues, but he couldn't leave Riley to get hurt either. And he knew instinctively that Ian and his goons wouldn't hesitate to hurt the young man. They had made their strong dislike for Riley and his antics very clear through the whole treasure hunt.

"So how do you want to do this, Ben? Are you going to help me get the treasure, or should I just shoot your little friend now and get it over with?"

"NO!" Ben shouted. "No, don't…just don't hurt him. Can I talk to him?"

Ian chuckled sadistically on the other line. "No, no I'm afraid that's impossible. I've shut him up, and frankly I like him a lot better when he's not running his mouth. I don't know why we never considered it before—we could have sewn his lips shut and found the treasure a long time ago."

"Ian, don't…"

"I'll tell you what Ben—you tell me what the next clue is and where you're headed, and we'll meet you there."

"No, Ian. No deal. I want to meet you _right_ now. I want to know Riley's okay."

"Sorry Ben, but we're already on the open road. I wouldn't want to be coming back anywhere near your dad's place. Not with the feds on their way. How was it, by the way?"

"What?"

"Seeing your dad. I'm sure he was thrilled to find out what you were doing."

"Yeah…thrilled. Where should we meet you?"

"'We'? Did you bring him with you, or are you still dragging Dr. Chase around?"

"Ben," Abigail whispered, looking frantically out the windows at their ominous surroundings. "We have to go…"

She was right. They'd been sitting there talking for a long few minutes by now. Ben didn't have that kind of time to spare, and he was definitely too frustrated to try to drive while talking to his mutinous financier.

"Ian, we don't have time for this. Where should we meet you?"

"That depends, Ben. Where are you going to solve your little cipher?"

So Riley had been able to tell him that much, but not where they were going. Ben shuddered, thinking of the horrible things they must have done to Riley to even get that much information from him.

"Philadelphia. We need to get to the Franklin Institute to see the Silence Dogood letters."

"Alright, Ben. You solve your little number puzzle, and I'll contact you in Philadelphia. Deal?"

"Like I have a choice?" Ben grumbled.

Ian laughed. "I guess not. See you later."

There was a click as the call was ended.

"What are we doing?" Abigail asked. "Where are we going?"

Ben started the car again and zoomed forward, heading for the highway. He passed her the book he'd taken from his father's house.

"'Common Sense'?"

"My dad usually keeps a few hundred dollars tucked in the pages. We're going to Phily and we need to change out of these clothes. Then we're going to get Riley back."

* * *

Ian flipped the phone shut and slipped it into his pocket. "See, that wasn't too bad. We're one step closer to the treasure." He smiled down at Riley, who glared up at him in response from where he was lying awkwardly on the floor of his own van.

Ian kept his little staring competition going for a minute before turning to the driver. "How much further?"

"Ten minutes, tops," the man called back.

Wow, Riley thought. They were almost there already? Was that even possible?

As if to answer Riley's unspoken question, Ian explained "We need to switch vehicles. I'm afraid we're a little conspicuous like this. But don't you worry…I've planned ahead."

He leant down and patted Riley's cheek with a smile. Riley flinched away and Ian laughed cruelly.

"This is going to be easier than I thought," he said, straightening up to look at Shaw. "By this time tomorrow we'll be rich men."

Shaw grinned back at his boss. Riley rolled his eyes and turned away from them. He had so many snappy come backs right now that he couldn't even say. It was hard enough to even breathe with the tape over his mouth. He had to consciously suck in every breath through his noise and try to ignore the stinging pain his cheek.

But that pain was easily drowned out by the growing ache in his arms and back. Rolling to his side had helped a little, but his shoulders were protesting every little move he made. He couldn't even feel his hands any more.

Stupid duct tape. Stupid Ian and Shaw and other guys. Stupid Riley, for getting into this stupid mess.

Suddenly the van hit a particularly large bump and lurched forward. Riley found himself sliding towards the front of the vehicle, unable to stop himself with his arms secured behind him. The top of his head hit hard on the jumbled mess of mother boards and other technological stuff as the van came to a screeching stop.

Ian threw the back door open as Shaw grabbed Riley by the collar of his hoodie. He was yanked out of the car rather roughly and fell to his knees on the pavement as his head swam. He looked around and blinked stars out of his eyes, only to find that they were in some kind of an underground garage that was completely empty except for a single compact car parked across from the two vans.

Shaw pulled Riley up by his hood and forced him towards the car. Three of Ian's goons had already squeezed into the back seat, leaving Shaw and Ian to take up the front seats. So where was Riley going to sit?

He watched with dread as Ian leaned down into the driver's seat. A second later the trunk popped open with a slight whooshing sound. Riley gulped.

"In you go," Shaw said.

He tightened his grip on Riley's hood and forced him forward. Riley struggled, he really did. He dug his Chuck Taylors into the pavement and twisted his body this way and that to try to get away. He did not want to get in the trunk. He could not stress how badly he did not want to be in that cramped, dark space.

Shaw, growing impatient with Riley's lame struggling, kicked out the back of the young man's legs. Riley let out a muffled groan and would have collapsed to his knees again if not for Shaw's iron grip on his sweatshirt. With his other hand, Shaw grasped the back of Riley's belt and hoisted him up and off the ground.

Riley was still struggled like mad, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the nausea that was rising in his stomach. But it was no use as Shaw plopped Riley callously into the trunk and ignored the younger man's muffled protests as he slammed the door shut, leaving Riley trapped in the darkness.


	2. The Not So Great Escape

**Chapter II: The Not So Great Escape**

Ian's car continued to speed along, headed for Philadelphia. Meanwhile, in the dark, stuffy, trunk, Riley felt every bump and pothole that was hit along the way. Between the constant jerking and the head wound he had sustained, he found himself feeling extremely nauseous. But he couldn't even throw up and make a mess in Ian's trunk—not with the duct tape sealing his mouth shut. He moaned. This _sucks_.

Riley wasn't even sure how long they'd been driving. He'd drifted in and out of consciousness a few times, unable to stay awake in the darkness. Now he had to mentally force himself to stay awake. Because if he didn't, he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep breathing. The air was growing thicker by the minute, and there was only so much oxygen he could suck in through his nose. He had to get out before he suffocated.

He'd seen people get out of trunks in movies—how hard could it be in real life? Really? All he needed to do was get his bound hands in front of him, then he could find something pointy and get the tape off. And there was always a switch or something to open the trunk from the inside, built specifically for these kinds of scary situations. Then he'd wait for the car to stop, pop out the back, and book it to wherever as fast as he could. Easy enough.

The trunk was small, but thankfully Riley was smaller. That didn't change the fact that he still wasn't the most flexible guy in the world, making the whole getting his arms to the front part of his plan very difficult. But Riley wasn't one to give up on something, especially when his own life was the something that he would be giving up on. He knew Ian didn't like him and even if he didn't kill him, Shaw or one of those other guys sure as hell would.

Riley laid on his side so he could stretch his arms out behind him as straight as he could and curl his legs up beneath him. He bent his body very awkwardly into a position that he was sure would look extremely funny in any other situation. Somehow, groaning with the effort, he managed to get a single leg back through his arms. He could have cried right there, first out of joy that he'd gotten this far, then over how ridiculously uncomfortable he suddenly was. His body was hunched and legs spread with his bound wrists between them, stuck together under his crotch. _Owie…_

Getting the other leg through was significantly more difficult than it had been to get the first one through. More difficult _and_ more painful. He was moving in ways he never thought he could, or even should attempt to. And he hoped to God Ian and his guys couldn't hear him through the backseat because he sure couldn't contain all the little pained and frustrated grunting sounds he was making.

He had his eyes squeezed shut and became painfully aware that it was getting increasingly more difficult to breathe. He let out a pitiful whimper and was tempted to give up and succumb to how ridiculously stupid he was going to look when Ian opened his trunk again. Then suddenly, he bent his knee further than he ever had before, knocking it against the inside of the trunk and cracking the joints painfully.

Ahhh, sweet relief.

He'd managed, somehow, through some freakish miracle, to get his bound arms in front of him. He nearly cried with relief again, but then choked on the stuffy air in the trunk. He really, _really_ needed to get the tape off his mouth. But first things first.

Riley swept his numb fingers around in front of him. He couldn't see a damn thing in the dark, so he had to rely on his sense of touch, though he wasn't sure how reliable that was going to be. His arms were sore and moving was difficult, especially now that his hoodie had slipped down to his elbows in his struggles. Not to mention that he could barely feel his hands with the duct tape wrapped so tightly around his wrists…

A pained curse that sounded like a pitifully muffled "Mrphr!" through the tape over his mouth as he suddenly retracted his fingers. There was something sharp in the trunk, and he was pretty sure he was now wounded somewhere between the middle and pointer fingers on his left hand. Wait a minute…something sharp?

The second he'd refocused his cloudy mind he found the pointy object again and brought his duct taped wrists to it. From there what felt like hours passed as Riley rhythmically pulled the tape against the small piece of metal that was most likely part of the locking mechanism of the trunk. He was feeling tired again, his head pounding with each move he made. Eventually though, he heard the loud sound of the tape beginning to tear. A few more pulls and it was torn completely through.

Riley took a couple of deep breaths as best as he could while he flexed his tingling fingers. Once he got enough feeling back in his hands to make them at least functional, he reached up to his face and traced the tape over his mouth with his fingers. He found the edge of the tape somewhere at the back of his head and he had to bend awkwardly again to get his arm up enough to reach it.

He had a good grip on the edge and was peeling it off when he stopped. His mind was so fuzzy that he'd nearly forgotten how badly this was going to hurt. It was okay coming off his wrists because, well, he could barely feel them anyway. His face on the other hand…

He sucked in a deep breath and braced himself as best he could. Basically he squeezed his eyes shut and scrunched his face into a grimace, figuring he'd get that over with at least. Then he pulled as hard and as quickly as he could, letting out a scratchy cry of pain as he did so. But he immediately stifled said cry with his hand. The last thing he wanted was for someone in the car to hear him.

Riley pulled his hand away after a moment and moved his stiff jaw around, wincing at the lingering sting in his lips and cheek. He was pretty sure his lame attempt at having some cool, grown up looking facial hair was just yanked away with the tape. He hadn't even bothered to pull the whole strip off the other side of his face. He didn't think he could lift his head enough to get it off.

What he could do was finally breathe through his mouth, though the action was seriously not as fulfilling as he would have liked it to be. The air was too stifling in the trunk. And hot, he suddenly noticed. He was practically drenched in sweat, and feeling very, very tired…

_No_, he thought as he forced his mind to wake up again. He'd gotten this far. There was no way he was giving up and waiting for Ian or whoever to find him and beat the crap out of him.

He ran his fingers around the trunk of the car, twisting his body around to feel at every inch of the small space. It was a good thing he wasn't claustrophobic, he suddenly thought. Or afraid of the dark, for that matter.

He got his finger around what felt like a small, plastic lever located in a corner somewhere above his head. He held his breath in anticipation as he pulled the lever.

_Click._

This time Riley did cry out in relief, a shaky sobbing sound that he was very glad no one else could hear. The trunk had opened a crack and cool, refreshing air entered the small space. Riley didn't think oxygen had ever tasted so sweat.

He pushed the trunk open an inch and any jovial feelings he'd had about getting the thing open were immediately dashed. He'd forgotten one little detail—the car was still moving. Damn it, now what?

After wallowing in his own sorrows for a moment, his head cleared enough for him to wonder where exactly he was. He peeked out of the crack and found that they were no longer on the highway. In fact they seemed to be driving along some nice, Pennsylvania country road. The sun had risen, making Riley wonder exactly how long he'd been stuck in the trunk. They must have been near Philadelphia already, maybe taking some back roads to avoid highway traffic. Or the police.

Riley estimated the car was going maybe thirty miles an hour at most. The car was turning on the rapidly winding road and there were no other vehicles in sight. Just some trees and bushes and soft cushy grass…

Riley blinked. The cool air had definitely succeeded in waking him up and he found himself devising a plan. Maybe not a completely ingenious plan—Ben could probably think up a better one—but it was a plan that he could easily execute, hopefully without hurting himself too badly.

Every time the car turned, Riley felt himself shifting around in the trunk. He waited for that feeling, the one that came just before a particularly large turn. The car slowed a little as Riley pushed open the trunk just enough for him to roll out without anyone in the car seeing that it had opened.

He fell—rather ungracefully—out of the trunk and onto the pavement with a short cry. His right side hit hard and he had the wind knocked out of him for a moment as he tumbled down the street. The last he saw of Ian's car was when it hit a bump that was large enough to cause the trunk to rise and fall and ultimately seal itself shut again. Then it was out of sight around the bend.

Riley just lay there on his back, in the middle of the road, for quite a while. He couldn't keep the wide, relieved smile off his face as he stared up into the light blue sky. He figured it was almost noon already, and couldn't believe how long he'd been stuck in Ian's trunk. Now that he was free, he figured it was a good time to take a little nap…

No, Riley, he told himself. No time for a nap. That's the head trauma talking. He had to get out of there before Ian came back looking for them. As far as Riley could tell though, they hadn't even noticed he was gone. But they still had his phone. And there was absolutely no one around to help him. There was only one thing Riley could do—walk.

He sat up slowly, wincing as new pains erupted over his body. He pushed himself to his feet. His legs were okay. His arms were okay. In fact, everything was pretty much okay, just a little sorer than usual. He probably just had a few scrapes and bruises, most notably on his right shoulder where he'd ripped right through his T shirt. Damn, he really liked that shirt, too.

Now that he was standing, he pulled his intact hoodie back up to his shoulders, wincing as the material brushed against his scraped arm and back. He sighed, put his hands on his hips and looked around.

"Okey dokey," he said out loud to himself. Speaking reminded him that the tape was still on his face and he was quick to pull it off, wincing as he did so. "Where to now?"

He balled up the rather long strip of duct tape along with the pieces that had been dangling off his wrists and tossed them in the bushes. He didn't even care if he was littering. He had more important things to worry about. Like what he was going to do to avoid getting captured and killed.

He was currently facing the direction he had come from, so the first thing he needed to do was turn around. When he did, he was surprised to see buildings in the very near distance and a bright green sign on the side of the road in front of him. He didn't need his glasses to see that the large white letters plainly said: "Philadelphia 1 Mile."

Riley grinned triumphantly. Finally things were looking his way. A mile was nothing—or he figured it was nothing, until he started moving his sore body. He'd only been walking for ten minutes when it dawned on him that even when he unhurt and healthy he was not the most athletic guy in the world. Sure he wasn't morbidly obese, but he wasn't physically fit either. He had the skinny, guy-who-spends-too-much-time-sitting-in-front-of-a-computer look going on.

In fact he didn't think he'd ever walked more than a few city blocks at one time alone before in his life. He was proud to say he'd managed to get out of many a gym class in high school. There was nothing _wrong_ with him really. But he had quickly discovered that carrying around a fake inhaler would successfully excuse him from running the mile and allow him to spend his free time in the computer lab.

The only time Riley really felt the need to exert himself physically was when he was being chased by dogs (they seemed to instinctively know he was allergic, and therefore flocked to him in the streets), being chased by people who intended to do him bodily harm, and trying to get away from an exploding ship. That last one was new to the list, thanks to Ben. Riley was a damn good sprinter when the situation called for it, but distance… He was never any good at distance.

And the bump on his head wasn't helping much, either. He'd imagined the wound looking something like in cartoons, when someone gets hit by a mallet and a gigantic mound grows where they were struck. But after prodding at the sore spot on the top of his head, Riley came to two conclusions—one, to never prod at it again, and two, that there was no giant, three inch high lump on his skull. There was a slight gash on the top of his scalp, though. The sticky stuff he felt in his hair was in fact blood and he couldn't help but cringe at the sight. He felt woozy just thinking about it.

After dwelling on all of these little facts and complaining about them quietly to himself, Riley found that he'd actually managed to walk almost the entire mile and was currently wandering around the outskirts of the city. Looking around he found that the streets were pretty quiet, which he took as another good sign. At least Ian hadn't come back for him yet. But Riley still had a little ways to go before he was in the heart of the city. He took a deep breath, set a determined look on his face, and started off to his left, a direction that looked more promising than his right.

Sometime later, after walking in circles around Philadelphia, Riley found himself outside of the Franklin Institute.

"Finally," he muttered.

Directions were not one of Riley's strong suits, unless of course he had his trusty computer with him. He sighed. He missed his computer already. All his precious technological gadgets was gone forever. Gone when Ian took his van. He shook his head. Ben would help him get all his stuff back, he knew it. But first he had to actually _find_ Ben.

He'd peeked into the Institute, looking for familiar faces. He found none and was getting some stares from other patrons as well as the few guards posted by the door. He must have looked weird being there by himself. After all, what kind of a guy his age wants to spend time at a museum?

Once he'd announced that he was "all good" to anyone that might have been listening, he retreated back outside where he noticed some empty benches across the street. Not knowing what else to do he crossed the street, nearly got hit by a tour bus in the process, and sank down onto a bench, finally succumbing to his exhaustion and utter despair.

He'd been counting on Ben being here. But what if Ben had already come and gone, and Riley was stuck waiting for nothing? Stupid Riley. Should have found a phone and just called Ben. That would have been a way better idea. Too bad he hadn't thought about it before sitting down, because he definitely didn't want to get back up anytime soon.

"Just stay awake, Riley," he muttered to himself as his eyes started to close again. He really was exhausted. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever felt this tired before. Ever. And now, all the little aches and pains he'd felt from falling out of the trunk were coming back to him, as well as that knock on the head he'd suffered. Soon he wasn't going to be able to even force himself to stay awake.

Riley wasn't sure how long he sat there with his eyelids drooping and shooting open again every few minutes. At one point his eyes opened a crack and he found himself fully awake by what he spotted across the street. Two familiar figures, one a tall male with wispy brown hair and the other a smaller, blonder female—Ben and Dr. Chase.

"Hooray, I'm saved," Riley mumbled with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

He made no move to stand. He just sat there with a goofy little smile on his face, waiting to see Ben's reaction when he finally spotted his missing friend. Right now Ben looked kind of…flustered. He had that puzzled look on his face when he was thinking too hard or worrying about something. Maybe the fact that the mean Declaration lady was still following him around had something to do with it. She was pretty annoying after all. They had different clothes on, Riley noticed. Huh. Wonder when they had time to go shopping.

Ben was still rushing around, circling the outside of the Institute and looking around nervously while Dr. Chase followed suit. Riley grinned. They were going to find him…Ben was looking this way… …no Ben, this way…not over there…

Riley's grin faded when they turned back to the museum, about to ascend the stairs and disappear inside. They'd looked right at him and hadn't seen him. Crap, that meant he'd actually have to get up to get the treasure hunters' attention. Getting up was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but he really _really _didn't want to sit there all alone any longer than he had to.

"Hey, Ben," he called weakly while he pushed himself up off the bench with an annoyed groan. Riley crossed the street, nearly got hit by a tour bus again, and called out to his friend a little louder. "Benjamin Franklin Gates!"

Finally a response: "Riley, oh my God!"

Before Riley could even take another step forward Ben had bounded down the stairs outside the Institute and dashed to Riley's side. He took Riley completely by surprise when Ben brought his arms over around his back in what Riley could only assume was supposed to be a "manly" hug. Riley, not quite knowing how to react, and feeling maybe a little nervous at being manhandled even by Ben, stayed stiff as a board until their awkward little embrace ended.

"Hey, Ben," Riley said quietly with a relieved grin on his face.

"Riley… I… You… What happened? Where's Ian?"

Riley shrugged. He was feeling very tired again and was suddenly very thankful Ben had yet to release the grip he held on his shoulder. His _left_ shoulder. "I dunno. But he's gonna be super pissed when he finds out I'm not in his trunk anymore."

Ben looked horrified. "In his _trunk_?! How did you get out?"

Riley just shook his head. "I did things no man should ever have to do. It was cool though. I've never fallen out of a moving vehicle before."

He'd said this with a smile and had mean for it to be a weird joke, but when he saw the furious expression on Ben's face he figured he must not have been as funny as he thought.

"I just…I can't believe Ian. I mean, he seemed like an alright guy when I started working with him."

"Oh," Riley mumbled. "Yeah, until that whole trying blowing us up on the Charlotte thing."

"Well, you're back and okay, and everything's back to normal."

Riley grinned. He knew Ben missed him.

"Ian's not calling all the shots anymore. He's lost his collateral, so we're free to find the treasure ourselves. All we need to do is figure out the cipher and we'll be a step ahead again."

Riley groaned. "Oh that's right—we're all about the treasure."

"What?"

"Yay, treasure," Riley said with mock enthusiasm.

"Are you sure you're okay, Riley?"

Riley had never even said that he was okay in the first place. In fact Ben had never even asked. He just kind of assumed that because Riley was walking and talking there was nothing broken in his brain, which meant that everything was fine and they were free to continue their treasure hunt.

Riley sighed and ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he suddenly remembered the bump on the top of his head. "I'm fine, really."

Ben actually chuckled. "Riley—have you even seen yourself? You look like..."

"Like I've been stuck in a trunk all night?"

"Yeah and then some."

"It's not that bad."

"Trust us, Riley," Abigail said, suddenly stepping forward. "It's that bad."

"We should get you to a hospital."

Riley paled, even more so than he already was. He liked that Ben was paying attention to him, but he didn't need _that_ much attention. "No I don't need…I'm fine. No hospital."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…I'm just, um…thirsty?"

Ben chuckled again, the only way he could release the nervous tension he'd been feeling since Riley was kidnapped. He clapped his friend on the back. "Sure kid. Whatever you want."

"I need a new shirt, too."

"We can do that. First let's get this clue found. Then we're hitting the town."

"Oh, boy..."

The smile on Ben's face grew impossibly wider as they strolled into the Franklin Institute, cipher in hand. He draped his arm over Riley's shoulders, completely oblivious to his younger friend's wincing. "It's good to have you back, Riley."

* * *

_Hmm, this stuff sounded vaguely familiar… Just thought I'd get it over with so we could get on with the newer storytelling. Which will hopefully happen sooner than later. I just need to proofread things again before I post, and I'll try not to take as long this time. Not like last story, where I didn't even realize when a week went by between two chapters. School's been crazy. Thank God it's almost over :)_


	3. Gone To The Dark Side

**Chapter III: Going to the Dark Side**

"_Phew._"

"What?"

"It's just that…the last time this was here…it was being signed."

Riley glared at him. "Ben, there's another tour coming," he stated, frustration evident in his voice.

They'd just made it to Independence Hall just in time to find the ancient x-ray specs. It was by pure chance that Ben found the solution to the "timely shadow" clue on one of his father's hundred dollar bills. Riley amazed even himself when he recalled the history of Daylight Savings Time, but immediately regretted mentioning the time as it only put Ben into a frenzied treasure hunting induced rush. Any chance Riley had to rest his sore body was dashed, and as a result he was more than a little cranky.

"Why can't they just say go to this place, here's the treasure, spend it wisely?" he whined, even though he knew no one was listening to him.

Sudden movement from just outside the window caught Ben's eye. "Oh, no."

Riley saw what he was looking at and turned ghostly pale. It was Ian and Shaw and Ian's other guys. And they were probably super pissed with Riley. "How'd they find us?"

"Ian has nearly unlimited resources," Ben said matter of factly even as he rapidly rolled the Declaration back up. "And he's smart. We definitely don't want him to have both the Declaration and the glasses."

"So what do we do?"

"Separate the lock from key. We split up." Ben passed Abigail the canister with the Declaration while shouldering his own empty canister.

"Really?" Riley didn't like the sound of that…not one bit.

"Yes," Ben snapped. "Split up and meet back at the car. Call me if there're any problems."

"You mean like if we get caught and killed?"

"Yeah, that would be a problem," Ben said impatiently. "Just take care of her."

"I will."

"I will."

* * *

"A-Abigail?"

Riley looked around uncertainly, feeling a little bit of panic beginning to well up inside of him.

"Oh, man," he moaned, silently cursing his own stupidity that led to the anxiety he was suddenly experiencing.

They were running, she said "follow me," and for some reason he'd assumed she meant the way he was already running. Stupid, Riley. Really stupid. Actually it was easier for him to use the bump on his head as an excuse for not paying attention to where he was going. The last thing his battered body wanted to do was run around.

"Hey, Abigail," he tried again, though he knew his quiet, shaky voice wasn't loud enough for even the people next to him to hear. "Come on Abigail," he whined. "I need an adult…"

The good thing was that he was safely hidden in a crowded shopping mall. The bad thing was that he was at least a head shorter than the majority of the crowd, and couldn't see more than two people ahead of him. For all he knew he could be walking right into one of Ian's goons.

He moved a little quicker, pushing past people to try to find somewhere to hide. His panic was rising and he felt himself breaking into a cold sweat. The last thing he wanted was to be caught again. He never wanted to have to taste duct tape or be stuck in a small, dark, uncomfortable trunk ever again. He imagined if he was kidnapped a second time, Ian wouldn't be nearly as nice as he had been the night before.

"Shut up," a gruff voice said from somewhere behind him. It was a voice Riley knew all too well—Shaw.

Riley felt himself start to shake where he stood, frozen in fear. He was a goner. Shaw found him, he was going to get his ass kicked…

He was still for a whole minute and still didn't feel the expected grasp of large fists on him. A thought popped into his head as his panic started to lessen—who had Shaw told to shut up? Not Riley, he didn't think he'd been saying anything at that particular moment. He chanced turning his head around and caught a glance of Shaw out of the corner of his eye, hovering around a counter while an angry black woman glared at him.

Riley nearly melted with relief. Shaw was too far away to even be talking to him. He was okay, everything was…

He didn't think—he just dashed under the nearest café table as Shaw's head suddenly turned to look in his direction. He stayed frozen in place, trying to ignore the stares of the couple that was sitting at the table he was hiding under. Even if Shaw did see him, he wouldn't hurt him in public, would he? That would be a very dumb thing to do.

He stared like a hawk until Shaw was around a corner and out of sight completely. Riley sighed with relief and let his tense body relax. As he calmed himself down, he also started hearing things out loud.

"…okay? Hello? You hear me, dude?"

Riley snapped to attention, which resulted in him banging his already injured head on the underside of the table. Wincing he pulled away from the table, only to find himself looking up at two very confused looking strangers, one of which had been apparently trying to talk to him. Now they just looked at him like he was crazy.

"Oh yeah," Riley said with what he hoped looked like a disarming smile. "Sorry to disrupt your, uh, lunch." He pulled himself to his feet, hiding winces as old aches and pains made themselves noticeable again. He vowed to never, ever roll out of a moving vehicle again. "Yeah…so long."

With that he waved good bye to the couple, who still looked very bewildered and not sure if they should laugh or consider themselves lucky this crazy person was leaving their table. Riley could care less. Shaw was retreating, and none of Ian's other goons were in the immediate vicinity. Riley remembered which way Shaw had gone and wisely decided to go in the opposite direction.

There were fewer people over here, which made it a little easier for Riley to tell if anyone was after him. Though he was safe for the time being, he still found that he couldn't keep his breathing normal. He was gasping raggedly as a cold, panicked sweat gathered on his brow. He was alone, and sore, and vulnerable, and more than a little freaked out…

Then he remembered—Abigail! Where the heck did she go? Riley felt himself grow paler as he recalled that she still had the Declaration. If she was caught, then Ian would have the document, and Ben would be pissed. Not just pissed—_disappointed_ was more Ben's style. He might even regret still dragging Riley along in the first place. All he was good for after all was getting kidnapped.

Riley leaned against an empty wall and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. He tried to focus his mind on something other than the immediate danger he was in and found his eyes falling on a rack of flower bouquets. Apparently he'd stopped near a florist. They were pretty flowers, he supposed. Lots of pretty colors. And they smelled nice too.

He suddenly blinked. No way. There, crouched among the flowers towards the front of the shop was the back of a familiar blonde figure. It was Abigail! She was okay. And she still had the Declaration. He nearly melted with relief. He was saved.

She did look ridiculous, though. It looked like she was trying to hide among the displays, oblivious to the fact that she was completely visible from behind. If Shaw or any of Ian's guys, even the dumber ones, were to walk passed here they would recognize her in a second. Riley did, and he wasn't even wearing his glasses.

Riley watched her for a few minutes, mostly pondering over how he should surprise her. But his tired mind couldn't come up with something especially creative on the spot, so he stepped quietly behind her and slowly reached his hand out to her shoulder.

Saying she freaked out would have been an understatement. Her reaction was priceless.

"Where were you?" she gasped, frustration evident in her German accent.

"Duh," Riley replied with a funny expression on his face. "_Hiding_."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Come on—Ben's probably waiting for us." With that she latched onto Riley's arm with her tight grip and pulled him along, ignoring his winces and complaints that she should "slow down, already."

* * *

Riley and Abigail stared in horror from where they lay, sprawled across the sidewalk after a very near death experience with a tuck. And there was the notorious Ian Howe scooping up the canister Abigail had dropped in her haste to escape his goons. He twisted it open, examining the document with a triumphant grin on his face. Riley was quick to scramble to his feet, but she didn't move. Abigail had finally had it safe in her grasp, and now it was gone in the hands of some obsessed treasure hunter who didn't even consider the fact that the historic document in his fist was worth more than any treasure, to her at least. Riley tugged on her arm and she took one last regretful look at the Declaration of Independence, silently vowing she would get the document back by any means necessary. Then she was off, running for her life with Riley right behind her.

* * *

"Ben, Ben…I'm sorry, Ben."

Riley could practically hear Ben's disappointment through the phone when he said, "It'll be alright. Meet me at the car." _Click_.

"What did he say?" Abigail said.

"He hung up on me," Riley muttered.

"I'm not surprised," she said rolling her eyes. "But what did he _say_?"

"He said meet by the car. It's around here somewhere…"

They turned a corner just in time to see Ben being frisked by FBI agents.

"Oh, no," Riley moaned. He moved to take a step forward, as though he could possibly save his friend from custody. But Abigail had enough sense to pull him away and back around the corner. They dashed down a few blocks, stopping at a quiet park when Riley complained that he couldn't run anymore.

He sank down on a bench and put his head in his hands. Abigail, meanwhile, had a plan of sorts already circulating in her mind.

"Riley…do you know how we can get in touch with Ian?"

* * *

"Come on, Riley. We're here."

"But I'm _tired_…"

She rolled her eyes. His whining was really getting on her nerves, and she regretted having to wake him in the first place. They were in New York City after a long and tense train ride that they spent constantly looking over their shoulders while Abigail held her cell phone tightly in her fist.

What they needed now was to find someplace public to hide in for a little bit. She was afraid the authorities were still after them for being associated with Ben. As she thought about the treasure hunter she felt very anxious about what exactly he was telling the FBI in regards to how much she was involved in their little adventure. She wondered if he would try to rat her out as an accomplice, and then she wondered if she was just being paranoid.

Then she spotted it—a crowded cybercafé where they could easily hide. It was also the perfect place for her to be able to ditch Riley for at least a few minutes. She needed to get in touch with Ian again, and she really didn't think Riley should hear their conversation.

"In here, Riley," she said, grasping his arm firmly in her fist and ignoring his wincing as she pulled him along.

"What are we doing—?"

"_You_ are going to sit down and, I don't know, check your email or something."

He looked too tired to complain or ask any more questions. "Okey dokey…"

"Good. I'm going to look around and call Ian again."

"Sure thing, chief."

She was surprised he didn't react to her saying she was going to call Ian, especially after everything that had happened to him. It unnerved her to think that this young man trusted her so much. She stared at the back of his head for a minute, wondering if she should even say anything else.

In the end she decided against it and backed away from Riley, whose eyes were now glued to the screen in front of him. He'd already begun typing away, doing God knows what. It really didn't matter to her what he did. He could be looking at porn like half the other people in the café were for all she cared. She had other things to worry about.

Abigail found a secluded spot in a far corner, well out of Riley's view and earshot. She flipped open the phone and dialed the number she'd learned just hours before. It had been Riley's brilliant idea to call his own kidnapped cell phone, mostly because he couldn't remember Ian's number off the top of his head. The plan had worked, and Ian had picked up and agreed to Abigail's request to get Ben out of FBI custody, though even he had already suspected what her true intentions were.

"Dr. Chase," Ian had said in their conversation in Philadelphia. "I assume Riley is with you since he is no longer with me."

"Um, yes," she said uncertainly.

"Can he hear our little chat?"

She blinked and sent a quick glance to Riley, who was watching her intently but clearly could not hear what was said on the other line. "No."

"Good. Don't say anything, just listen. I understand that you care very much for the document I have in my possession. Even more so than Ben or his pestering little side kick. I believe we can come to some other agreement, one that will get the Declaration back into your Archives without involving Ben or the FBI. Am I piquing your interest yet?"

She didn't need to think very hard about it. "Yes," she said breathlessly.

"I want you to call this number back once you are in the city. Keep the kid with you, but don't let him hear our conversation. I'll call Ben and set up something with the FBI, to keep them off your back. Talk to you in New York." Then he hung up.

And now she sat, calling the man that she had considered to be evil for help. All she cared about was the Declaration and getting it back safely. As much as she had been flattered by Ben and his charm, she couldn't deny the anger and frustration she felt over the fact that he had tricked and used her for his own ends. There was no doubt in her mind that he was only letting her tag along so she wouldn't go the FBI. Otherwise he most likely wanted nothing to do with her.

She didn't care about his supposed treasure. Sure she'd been fascinated by the numbers written on the back of the famous document, but not enough to believe in his wild hunt. He was just wasting his time, looking for something that probably never existed, while he dragged around anyone who would listen to him without a single thought on the consequences of his actions. She couldn't help but wonder what Riley really thought of this whole thing and why he was still so dedicated to Ben, even after everything that had happened to them today.

Abigail had no time left to muse over the treasure hunter and his young companion, as the phone had finally stopped ringing and a familiar voice picked up on the other end.

"Ah, Dr. Chase," Ian said smugly. "I'm so glad you called. I assume Riley is temporarily occupied?"

"Yes. He's playing with something on a computer."

Ian chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

"You listen to me, Ian," Abigail snapped, wanting to get straight to business. "I know you're a backstabbing cheat, so don't try any games with me. I want the Declaration."

"And you will have it, once you tell me what Ben found that I cannot."

"We found a pair of glasses in Independence Hall that revealed another message on the back," she said, not even giving a second thought to the fact that she was betraying Ben's trust. "It said 'Heere at the wall,' with two e's. It refers to the wall that used to be in the city, where Wall Street and Broadway are now. That's where the treasure is."

There was a pause on the other line while Ian absorbed this new information. "Good, very good."

"Meet me in Bryant Park behind the Library and give me back the Declaration. You'll have your treasure."

"Why don't we meet and find the treasure, first?"

"No Ian. Bryant Park. I'm not going down town to help you find your imaginary treasure."

Ian chuckled, obviously amused by her forceful tone. "Fair enough."

"Midnight. Be there or I'll expose you to the FBI."

"And what about your little companion?"

She was taken aback by the question and hesitated a moment before answering. "I…I don't know. I guess I'll ditch him. Just leave him here now. He'll never even know I was gone."

"No," Ian said, the evil in his voice more evident now than ever before. "He's coming with you to meet us."

Her heart sank. She had intended to this quietly, so Ben and Riley might not know she was the one to betray them. She figured she owed them that much, at least. "Why?"

"Because that little bastard has made a fool out of me for the last time. I want him back."

She definitely didn't like the sound of that. Sure Riley was annoying, but she didn't want him to get hurt. And by the tone of Ian's voice, he was definitely going to hurt the young computer nerd. "No, Ian. He has nothing do with this. I—"

"Dr. Chase, you bring him to me or you'll receive the Declaration in pieces."

She gasped. "You wouldn't…"

"Don't test me."

"Fine. Fine I'll bring him."

"Good. Meet me at midnight, at the park. See you then."

And he hung up.

She sighed and shook her head as a migraine started to pound through her skull. Things were definitely not going according to plan, and she couldn't help but feel her situation was rapidly spiraling out of her control.

* * *

_Any gaps in this chapter (and there are quite a few of them) were either included already in v2 of the story or events happen just like they do in the movie. So go read the other story, and maybe watch the movie again and things will make more sense :)_


	4. Race Through NYC

**Chapter IV: Race Through NYC**

"There you are…"

Riley couldn't help but smile at his own genius. He'd managed to hack into an online tracking program used by cops and probably even the FBI. Sure it was illegal, but it wasn't the first time he'd managed to hack into seemingly secure government sites. If they really didn't want him doing it, they wouldn't make it so damn easy for him to do.

What he'd managed to find was none other than Benjamin Franklin Gates. Or his cell phone to be precise. Ben's phone had a special GPS signal on it, a precaution for if he was ever lost during his treasure hunt. And now, thanks to the tracking program Riley'd hacked into, he knew exactly where Ben was in FBI custody in New York City. Provided that the FBI still had Ben's cell phone, though why wouldn't they—they were still expecting calls from Ian after all.

Riley didn't like the sound of the plan, not at all. He'd begged Abigail not to call Ian but she wouldn't listen. Riley wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was still scared of the British man. Scared of his trunk, too. He was sure Ian would be pissed that he'd escaped, and there was no doubt in Riley's mind he was a vengeful man. And if Ian was supposed to help Ben, well, then Riley felt more scared for the treasure hunter than for himself. Maybe now that he knew where Ben was exactly, they could think of a new plan—one that didn't involve Ian…

A hand grasped his shoulder and he jumped out of his seat with a yelp.

"Ahh!" he gasped. "Don't freak me out like that!"

"Just revenge," Abigail said with a smirk.

"Revenge for what?" he whined.

"For surprising me at the flower shop."

"Aw, come on…really?"

She ignored the question and took a seat next to him. She was silent long enough for Riley to find himself feeling very uncomfortable.

"So…" he said, squirming on his seat. "What's the new plan?"

"Hang out here until the café closes, then head out and find somewhere else to hide until morning."

Riley blinked in surprise. "Really? That's the plan?"

"Yes," she growled at him.

"Sounds like a pretty sucky plan to me…"

"Well I don't see you coming up with anything better!"

He winced at her harsh tone. It was obvious she was frustrated and probably just as worried about their situation as he was. Still…she didn't need to snap at him.

"I have an idea," he said meekly.

"What?!"

He cleared his throat and gestured to the tracking program he still had up on the computer monitor. "See I found where Ben is with the FBI. We can go get him ourselves and not have to worry about Ian double crossing us. Again. For like the millionth time."

She actually blinked at him for a second while her mind processed what he'd found. In the end she just rolled her eyes. "Riley, that's just…stupid. You really think we could get Ben out ourselves? That's a criminal act you know. Which is exactly why I called Ian in the first place."

"But I—"

"No. We're following the original plan, _my_ plan, to get the Declaration back. Finding that document is our biggest concern."

"Oh," he muttered. It figured that the Mean Declaration Lady cared only about her precious Declaration of Independence. Riley wondered if she even cared about Ben a little bit. Probably not, if she didn't even consider his ingenious plan. Ben would listen to him if he were here. Even if Riley's ideas were stupid, Ben would at least pretend to hear him out before telling Riley nicely that he was an idiot.

But as ridiculous as his idea was, he still felt that Abigail's was a lot worse.

"Are we really going to just sit here all night?"

She let out a frustrated groan. "_Yes_, Riley."

"Can't we go get a hotel or something?"

She shot him a look.

"Not like that. Just, you know…"

"Getting a hotel for the night only means that Ian or the police could find us faster."

"We could just pay cash…"

"No, Riley," she snapped before turning away from him, obviously finished with their pointless argument.

Riley didn't say anything else, mostly because he too was tired of arguing, but also because he'd seen briefly the worry and uncertainty in Abigail's eyes before she turned away. It was painfully obvious that she wasn't entirely convinced by her own plan of action, but her stubborn nature told her that it was the only way. So, in a way, she was acting like Ben, only nastier.

Whatever. Riley didn't care. He got to spend time playing crappy online video games, still checking occasionally to make sure Ben's cell phone was still at the same address. It was, and soon he'd had the place etched permanently into his memory. Federal Plaza, West 33rd Street and 9th Ave… Federal Plaza, West 33rd Street and 9th Ave… Abigail may not respect him enough to hear him out, but he wasn't going to forget his own plan so easily. If anything went wrong, he would take matters into his own hands. Though he really hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He hadn't realized he'd nodded off with his head lying on the table top until Abigail was gently shaking him awake. He winced at even the slightest touch and moaned at her to go away. His entire body was sore and the cuts and bruises he'd sustained from falling out of Ian's car earlier that day were starting to really hurt. She shook him again, harder this time on his right shoulder—his sore shoulder.

"Ah, stoppit," he slurred. He was barely awake and already in immense pain.

"Riley, it's after eleven."

"So," he said, his voice coming out in a whimper from the table top.

"We have to go."

She wasn't snapping at him anymore. In fact her voice sounded tired and almost…sad? Why would she sound like that?

Riley sighed in relief when she finally pulled her hand off his shoulder. He raised his head up slowly as little pains erupted on his back and shoulders. He moaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Where are we going?"

"Just come on."

"Oookaaay…"

She grasped his arm and led him out of the café and onto the New York streets. It was late and the buildings were, for the most part, dark for the night though there were still quite a few cars out and people walking around. New York is the city that never sleeps after all.

He stumbled along the sidewalk while Abigail never relented the iron grip she had on his hoodie. He kind of wanted to take it off. All of a sudden he was very warm and feeling more than a little sick. His head was pounding in time with the scrapes on his back and side, making him feel disoriented and exhausted. Everything looked dark and fuzzy to him—the few people that passed them on the streets appeared to be nothing more than faceless blobs.

Something in his head that wasn't in pain kept nagging at him that this was very, very wrong. But Abigail was there, pulling him along. She knew what she was doing. She was his friend, just like Ben was. And just like Ben, his only real friend, she would be there to help him and take care of him. Right?

"Where are we going?" he asked again, his voice a little whinier than usual.

"Almost there…" she said, barely acknowledging him.

"_Where?_"

"The library, Riley."

"Oh. Are they open this late?"

"Yes," she said calmly. She spoke to him like she was reassuring a toddler.

Riley barely noticed her tone and didn't even care. After all, she wasn't the first person to talk down to him. "Can we get some headache drugs or something first? I don't really feel so hot…"

If she heard him, she didn't show it. She just kept up her speed walking while Riley mused on the fact that he said he didn't feel hot, when he did in fact feel very warm. It was crazy, the kinds of things people said.

Finally, after passing a few more blocks and walking in what Riley was sure were nothing but circles, Abigail stopped.

"We're here," she said quietly, as though to hide their presence from eavesdroppers.

Riley looked around. They were in a small, grassy park, taking shelter beneath a clump of trees. He could barely see the backside of the library from where he was. It was very, very dark.

"Abigail," he said as he stumbled forward, looking for a bench or something to sit on. "What are we doing here?"

There was no response from behind him.

"Hey, Abigail," he called softly when he realized she wasn't next to him anymore. "Seriously, not this again. Hello…Mean Declaration Lady…"

"You know, some people don't like being called ridiculous nicknames," a gruff voice said from behind him.

He finally spun around and came face to face with the very person he'd never wanted to see again for as long as he lived.

"Hello, Riley."

"I-Ian," Riley stuttered. He was frozen in fear, his eyes wide as he looked up to see the villain and his handful of goons.

"You look surprised to see me," Ian said with a smug smile on his face. "You didn't really think Dr. Chase wanted you to tag along with her all night, did you?"

His draw dropped. "What?"

Abigail stepped out from the shadows and stood next to Ian. "Sorry Riley. This was the only way I could ensure the Declaration's safety."

"But…I…and Ian…and Ben was…" He was at a loss for words. This was way too much information to process at one time, especially when his head was already feeling feverish. "Why, Abigail?"

"She knows a good deal when she sees one," Ian said with a grin. "The Declaration for you."

Abigail looked horrified. "No, that…Riley…that's not what this is about…"

"Oh, don't be modest, Dr. Chase," Ian said as he took a step closer, never relenting his cruel glare from Riley's terrified face. "I'm sure you're not the only one who thinks Riley is expendable. In fact, I've been trying to tell Ben that for years."

Riley took a nervous step back away from Ian, only to find he'd backed up into his second least favorite person. With a yelp he tried to dash away from Shaw, only to be grabbed back when Shaw's massive hand clamped down on his right shoulder. Riley couldn't help it—he cried out in agony but had barely made a sound when Shaw's free hand clamped over his mouth.

"No," Abigail said, though she still kept her distance with the Declaration tight in her grasp. "Let him go. Ian, this wasn't part of the deal…"

"You're still here?" he snapped in annoyance. "You have your Declaration, now go."

"No, Ian. Leave Riley out of this."

"Little Riley's been a part of this much longer than you have."

"I'll call the FBI…"

"No you won't," he countered with his voice raised menacingly. "You're not calling the shots anymore, Dr. Chase. You have what you wanted so I suggest we go our separate ways before I change my mind."

Abigail hesitated. She did have what she wanted, and as much as she had considered Riley to be a nuisance, she couldn't just leave him with these people…could she? Riley wasn't her responsibility. It would be so easy to just walk away now and forget the whole thing.

Riley saw the hesitation on her expression and his panic escalated. She started to step back, mumbling something that sounded like an apology as she turned to leave. Riley knew he was as good as dead with Ian, and the only person who cared enough to help him was in FBI custody. Ben…he needed to get to Ben…

"Goodbye Dr. Chase," Ian said with a friendly wave. "Until we cross paths again…"

But if Ian was going to gloat anymore, he was stopped by Shaw's sudden yelling as Riley bit down hard on his hand. Shaw, in his surprised agony, released his grasp on Riley to cradle his now bleeding hand.

Riley pushed himself away from the bigger man, spitting Shaw's blood out of his mouth in disgust as he did so. He had barely gotten a few steps away when something pulled hard on his hood. He was yanked to his back on the ground and his head bounced painfully off the grassy floor. He blinked stars out of his eyes only to find himself staring up at Ian's furious face. Just as Ian was about to haul him up again, Riley managed to squirm out of his hoodie, wincing as the material rubbed against his injured skin. He kicked back, nailed Ian in the shin, and scrambled to his feet.

He had one last look at Abigail as she dashed off into the darkness with the Declaration clutched to her chest. He went the opposite way, not wanting to have to see her ever again.

"Don't just stand there," Ian yelled, tossing the empty jacket to the ground. "Go after him!"

"What about her?" Powell asked.

"I don't care about her or the bloody document! Bring me back _Poole_!"

Their voices got quieter and quieter as Riley dashed away through a row of overgrown bushes and onto a New York sidewalk. He ran across the street without even looking and considered himself lucky that there were no taxis racing around. He heard more yelling coming from behind him as Ian and his goons chased after him in the darkness.

Riley ran as fast as his tired legs could take him. He just ran in one direction, not even caring where he was or where he was going. He just wanted to get as far from Ian as possible. He'd gone three blocks when he finally slowed to see if anyone was following him. He couldn't tell, at least not in the darkness. He probably wouldn't even be able to distinguish one person from another through his blurry vision. He side stepped and started to go forward again, only to find the ground drop out from beneath him.

He let out a short cry as his foot missed the first two steps and his whole body tumbled down the dingy subway stairwell. His right arm gave out as he tried to brace himself and he hit the tiled floor hard on his chest and laid there in a heap, trying to catch his panicked breath. He looked around and the first thing he noticed was that no one was around to have seen him fall. He took that as a good sign and tried to force himself up.

He moaned pitifully as pain erupted all over his fragile form. Bruises had formed over existing scrapes and bruises, and he could only imagine how colorful he must have looked. But there was no fresh blood oozing from anywhere and there were no bones sticking out of his skin as far as he could tell. His arm was really hurting him all of a sudden, but it wasn't incapacitating.

Riley started to push himself up the stairs but froze when he heard footsteps from above. People were running back and forth. Someone was yelling. It had to have been Ian. Riley couldn't help it—he just started shaking, right there in the subway stairwell. He actually felt hot tears from in his eyes, though he hastily wiped them away with his hand, wincing at even the slight movement.

The last thing he wanted to do was give up and cry—especially here with Ian looking for him on the streets above. Why were they still after him, anyway? It wasn't fair. They were just picking on him now. Riley sniffled. He was used to being picked on, but being kidnapped, locked in a trunk, and forced to run for his life through the New York City streets in the middle of the night was all new to him.

He let out a quivering sigh. Crying sucked. And he'd gotten so good at holding it in and hiding all his emotions with his cheerful façade and sarcastic remarks. He blamed his weakened defenses on the fact that he was sore and sick, and leaned his head back against the dirty tiled wall while taking deep breaths to try to calm himself down.

There was no one running or yelling up on the street anymore, at least not as far as Riley could tell. He strained his ears but still heard nothing. He blinked away his bleary vision and felt relieved that Ian and Shaw must have passed him by. Now that he at least felt a little safe and somewhat sheltered in the subway entrance, he thought it was a good time to take a nap…

"No," he said out loud in the hopes of keeping himself from passing out. "Gotta…stay awake… Find Ben…gotta find…Ben…"

With a lot of effort and strength of will he didn't even knew he had, Riley pushed himself to his feet. He started up the stairs again, leaning heavily on the wall for support to keep from collapsing. He poked his head up onto the street and hesitated, taking a good look around, just in case someone was waiting to pounce on him. He was pretty sure there was absolutely no one around, so he got up onto the pavement and stood upright, wincing in pain as he straightened his bruised torso.

"Federal Plaza, West 33rd Street and 9th Ave," he mumbled to himself. He looked up at the street sign and found that he was near the corner of 42nd and 8th. He actually smiled and let out a relieved but quivering sigh. He only had to go one block over and nine blocks down. That's not so bad. He could do that. No problem.

He took a step and nearly collapsed, suddenly regretting being out of the subway stairwell and away from its sturdy walls. He pushed himself up, wincing and making little pained noises as he forced his broken body to move. He managed to take a few wobbly steps and soon he was able to forget his pain while his mind wandered on what he would do when he arrived at his destination. Only one block over and nine blocks down to go. Geez, it hadn't sounded like that much before…

* * *

_If I recall correctly, I did look up where FBI headquarters was in NYC so that is in fact the real address. Can't say I've walked passed it personally to know what it looks like, and if I have I probably would never even noticed it. I tend to head straight for Midtown Comics whenever I'm in the city :)_


	5. Safe At Last

**Chapter V: Safe At Last**

Riley figured he must have blacked out at some point, because he honestly didn't remember walking as far as he did. He hadn't even been thinking. He just walked blindly until he found himself in front of a rather normal looking brick building with the words "Federal Bureau of Investigation: New York City Headquarters" etched into the stone over the doors. Riley almost laughed at how ridiculously obvious the building was. But then he remembered that laughing would probably hurt, especially in his rib area.

After a quick glance at his surroundings, Riley figured his best bet was to force his way in. He wasn't sure if anyone would believe what had happened to him, and then he didn't think he could be sneaky enough to get in the building undetected. All he knew was that he needed to find Ben. Ben would help him and everything would be okay. He just needed Ben.

He shoved through the glass door, surprised that it was even open. A single late night security guard was startled in his seat by the opening door, but was not quick enough to stop Riley in his mad, adrenaline fueled dash into the building.

"Sir, you can't come in here…"

Riley ignored him and turned down the first hallway he saw. The place seemed deserted, even for the middle of the night. You would think the FBI would have had people working around the clock in New York City. No wonder big shot criminals are so difficult to catch.

"Ben," Riley called as loudly as he could. He had no idea where to even begin looking for his friend, and in his panic he'd lost any sense of rational thought. He would probably be arrested for just breaking into FBI property. God knows what would happen if he were able to actually get Ben, a prisoner, out of the building. He'd probably be shot on sight.

He turned a corner, still yelling for Ben, and ran headlong into something very solid and fell back onto the ground with a cry. Looking up he saw that he had run into a grey suited older gentleman who was staring down at him with a bewildered expression. Two other suits flanked him, a man and a woman, both of whom were quickly recovering from their initial shock and reaching for their holstered weapons.

The older man, apparently the leader, started to say something but Riley couldn't hear it through the blood pounding in his ears. In a panicked frenzy he scrambled up to his feet and turned back the way he'd come. He heard voices calling after him, telling him to stop, but he still couldn't comprehend anything about his situation. He needed to find Ben, he needed to talk to Ben…

Riley shoved his way through a door, hoping to find a place to hide, and found himself at a stairwell. Some part of his brain told him that the FBI would probably keep prisoners downstairs, and that this was in fact the way to go. He dashed down the stairs, his hand gripping tight to the metal railing to keep himself from falling again. Another door…he pushed it open and stumbled down a hallway while his breath came in ragged, panicked gasps between his yells for Ben.

He was slowing down. Everything hurt and he was exhausted. This had been, hands down the crappiest day of his overall crappy life. He finally stopped, leaned against a wall, and nearly collapsed in a heap.

"Ben," he called, his voice now barely more than a raspy whisper. He slid down the wall, barely able to take another step. He felt tears of frustration well up in his eyes again, now at how hopelessly lost he suddenly felt.

"…Riley?"

It sounded far away, somewhere down a hall to his right, but there was no mistaking the voice.

"Ben!"

Riley blinked back the tears and forced himself to his feet. He stumbled around a corner towards the direction of Ben's voice, only to find that two official looking officers were coming towards him. He hesitated for a second then foolishly tried to push past the pair. They each lashed onto one of his arms and he couldn't contain the scream of anguish that rose in his throat as his battered body was grabbed.

Then he was gasping on his knees while the very confused officers supported his arms. And Ben was still calling for him. It sounded like he was asking if everything was okay. He sounded very worried. Ben Gates never sounded worried.

"B-Ben," Riley rasped as the two officers started to haul him to his feet.

"Come on buddy," one of them said. "You're not supposed to be down here—"

"No, let him go," a calm voice said.

Riley looked up. It was the older gentleman that he'd run into before. He was most definitely the boss, based on how quickly the others followed his orders. The second his arms were free Riley dashed down the hall, his hand to the wall for support, until he reached the barred space that Ben was in.

"Ben," he sighed with relief as he sank to his knees and leaned heavily against the metal bars of Ben's cell.

"Jesus, Riley," Ben said when he saw his friend. "Where did you… How did…" He shook his head, not even knowing what to make of this new development. "What happened?"

Riley's eyes were wild when he addressed Ben. "It was Abigail, Ben! She turned to the dark side!"

Ben blinked. "She…what?"

"Ugh," Riley groaned. Then he was waving his arms dramatically around with his face pressed as far between the cell's bars as possible. "She pulled an Ian, Ben! The Mean Declaration Lady said she would help you and that Ian could break you out of prison so she called him…"

"Um, Riley," Ben said, his eyes darting to the guards at the mention of breaking out.

Riley was oblivious as he continued on with his frantic rambling. "…but they didn't talk about helping you. She just wanted the Declaration—she doesn't care about you, or me, or the treasure."

"Wait—Abigail's working _with_ Ian?"

"Yes," Riley sighed, more than a little frustrated that Ben wasn't following what he was saying. "She set me up...said we were hiding but Ian was there. I got away and I found out where you were so I didn't know what else to do. I could be arrested and in jail with you, I don't care."

But Ben was still processing Abigail's betrayal. "She…why would she do that?"

Riley slumped further down on his knees. All this frenzied explaining was making his sore body even more tired than it already was. "I dunno."

"I take it this is the young accomplice you were telling me about, Ben?"

Riley turned his tired eyes up to see the older man he'd run into before. It may have been because of his fuzzy vision, but Riley could have sworn the guy had a very amused half smile on his face.

Ben cleared his throat and looked up at the man from where he was on his knees in front of Riley's slumped form. "Yeah…Agent Sadusky, this is Riley Poole, Riley that's Sadusky."

"Hello," Riley muttered tiredly. "I don't even care if you…arrest me or whatever."

"You did rush onto government property without an invitation," Sadusky mused. "But I think we'll hear the rest of the story before we arrest anyone else." He turned to the two agents that had been trailing him and said quietly, "get the on call medic down here."

"Riley," Ben started, still obviously in shock that his friend was even there with him, and then even more shocked by Riley's battered appearance. "What happened to you?"

"Told you I needed…a new…shirt…" Riley said in a barely audible voice as his eye lids finally fell shut. Now that he was safe, with Ben, he didn't have to worry about Ian or being hurt or scared. As soon as he'd finished speaking he passed out, figuring that now was a good time to take a much needed nap.

* * *

"Is he okay?" Ben frantically called through the bars of his cell. "Is Riley okay?"

Sadusky finally came back down the hall. Ben had been left in the dark for almost an hour since Riley collapsed. It had been one of the most terrifying hours of Ben's life. Just seeing Riley, his body bruised and bloody with his T-shirt in tatters beneath his stained jacket had been scary enough. Seeing Riley faint like that and then carried away was just awful.

"He's alright," Sadusky assured him while fumbling for something on his belt. "He has had quite a rough night." To Ben's surprise the FBI agent came forward with a key in hand to undo the lock on Ben's cell. He stopped for a moment and met Ben's eye. "Do you promise to cooperate if I let you out?"

Ben nodded frantically.

Sadusky smiled and unlocked the door. "Come on, Mr. Gates. Let's go see your friend."

Ben followed the shorter man in a daze, his mind still trying to wrap itself around the latest turn of events. Why would Abigail betray him like she did? He actually thought she'd liked him…

"So…this Riley Poole…I'm assuming he's the Riley that was kidnapped last night after you were at your father's house? And he's the same Riley that managed to escape and find you in Philadelphia?"

"Um, yeah," Ben said as he was suddenly awoken from his thoughts.

"So this would make two kidnappings and two attempts on his life in one day. I'd say Ian Howe is looking more and more like the villain in this story."

Ben blinked. Before the FBI agent had seemed less than amused by Ben's story and more than a little skeptical of the whole thing. "So…am I going to be free to go?"

Sadusky chuckled. "Not quite, Mr. Gates."

He stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, gesturing for Ben to go first. The treasure hunter stepped into a very sterile smelling room and immediately heard the sound of his own name.

"Hey, Ben!"

Riley's voice sounded hoarse but at least he was conscious and okay. Ben couldn't help the relieved smile that formed on his face. "Hey, Riley," he said quietly.

Riley was sitting on an examination table in the middle of the tiled room wearing only his boxers, sneakers, and green socks while he was being tended to. It was like the FBI had their own little emergency room—all the supplies were there, even a young woman with a stethoscope hanging around her neck playing doctor. When he saw Ben, Riley tried to hop off the table but was immediately stopped by the doctor's gentle hand.

"Sit down, Mr. Poole," she said sternly.

Riley gave her a sad pouty look but did as he was told. Ben had been initially just glad to see his friend was awake, but now he felt extremely guilty looking at how colorful Riley's thin torso was. He'd gotten Riley into this mess and he hadn't been there to help him when Riley was being hurt.

Ben's thoughts must have been reflected on his weary face because Sadusky suddenly placed a gentle hand on the treasure hunter's shoulder. "He's going to be fine," the FBI agent assured him. "We've been able to rule out any serious injuries. He woke up while he was being examined. I figured you'd want to see him."

"Yes," Ben said, sending Sadusky a very grateful look. "Thank you."

The doctor was examining the extensive bruising to Riley's side and had put a gloved finger in the waist band of his boxers to see how bad the bruise was on his hip. Riley slapped at her hand and gave her a hard look which she returned with full force.

"Mr. Poole, I'm not going to be able to check your injuries if you keep fighting me like this," she said calmly despite the fierce expression on her face.

"_You_ ruined my jeans!"

"And I am very sorry for that," she retorted sarcastically as she fished through a drawer for something.

"Really?"

"Yes, because I liked you a lot better when you were unconscious," she said as she held out a backless hospital gown.

He wrinkled his nose at it and immediately looked to Ben for help, his eyelids heavy over glossed over, tired looking eyes.

Ben stepped over to his friend and had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair or give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Riley. "It's okay, kid. Just let the doctor check you out and we'll go home. Okay?"

Riley gave Ben a hurt look before lowering his head and mumbling, "okay…"

Ben started to walk back to the doorway, to give the doctor room to work, when he heard Riley's small voice again.

"Ben…you…you're going to stay here, right?" He looked so scared.

"Yeah, Riley," he said gently. Then he turned and gestured to Sadusky and the other two FBI agents that were hovering in the corner of the room. "I'm not really supposed to go anywhere," he said with a grin.

Riley responded with a slight smile, though the fear was still bright in his eyes.

The doctor pulled a curtain around the bed shut to hide the examination from view, but it didn't drown out the sound.

"Alright, alright," Riley said, clearing his throat of emotion. "Just watch where you're touching… Hey!"

"Mr. Poole, I'm just taking your shoes off…"

"Yeah, well, keep the scissors away. I'm not letting you tatter my Cons, too."

The doctor sighed. "Fine. I'll be careful."

"And it's Riley."

"What?"

"Not _Mr. Poole_. Riley. You make me sound old."

"Trust me, _Riley_," she scoffed. "No one could mistake you for being old…"

Sadusky tapped Ben on the shoulder and nodded his head out of the door. They left the room, followed closely by the other two agents. Sadusky closed the door to the medical room, saying "I think we'll let Dr. Ellis do her job. She's got quite a patient in there."

"He just doesn't like hospitals," Ben said, coming to his friend's defense. "Whining makes him feel better."

"Whatever works," Sadusky said with a chuckle. He turned serious again in a second as he addressed the other two FBI agents. "We have a new situation on our hands, people. It seems that Dr. Chase has the Declaration and will most likely try to get it back to DC. Ian Howe is still out there and I want him brought into custody."

Ben cleared his throat. Sadusky raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, Mr. Gates?"

"I think I might know where he's going…"

* * *

Over an hour later, a plan of action was decided. Ben and Sadusky had conversed with the local NYC authorities—who had been kind enough to let Sadusky take over their facilities—over how to capture the elusive Mr. Howe. Ben was convinced Ian would go after treasure has soon as possible, especially while he was under the protection of darkness. A team went out to the Trinity Church based on Ben's "Heere at the Wall" clue while another scoured the city for Dr. Chase under orders to detain her for having the stolen Declaration of Independence in her possession.

The meeting room cleared out as agents received their orders from Sadusky. Ben couldn't help but admire the older man's leadership qualities—he was calm and composed under pressure and able to make an important decision in a heartbeat. Ben was almost proud to have been captured by him.

"What should I do?" Ben asked when he noticed the room was pretty empty except for himself, Sadusky, and his two agents.

Sadusky glanced at Ben before turning to his two followers. "Take Mr. Gates back to sit with his friend. I want a statement from Riley Poole as soon as he is able to give one."

Two "yes sirs" followed and Sadusky nodded, gave one last glance in Ben's direction, and then left the room.

"Come on, Mr. Gates."

Ben was more than happy to comply. Ian was not his concern anymore. All he cared about now was Riley.

When they got back to the FBI's emergency room, Ben was surprised to see Dr. Ellis sitting on a counter jotting things down on a clip board. The curtain was still pulled around the bed, hiding Riley from sight. Before Ben could ask what was going on, Dr. Ellis hopped off the counter and approached him and the other two agents with a weary smile.

"He's okay," she said when she saw the worry on Ben's face. "Just exhausted. I gave him a sedative to help with the pain, so he'll be out of it for a while." Then as an afterthought she said to Ben, "you can sit with him, if you like."

Ben merely nodded and followed her around the curtain where Riley was lying on his left side breathing heavily as he slept. Ben thought he would feel better once he saw Riley again, but instead he only felt even guiltier than he had before. Riley looked awfully pale—his skin had the same lack of color as the starch white sheet that was pulled up to his chest. The blanket and hospital gown covered most of his bruised body, but Ben still noticed bandages wrapped around his right arm and taped to his back.

Dr. Ellis caught him looking at the injuries. "There were a number of scrapes on his back and shoulder that were older and already showing signs of infection. He was a little out of it already when I asked him about it, but he did say something about falling out of a trunk."

Ben suddenly felt his blood turn cold. That must have happened earlier, when Riley escaped from Ian's clutches. He'd been walking around Philadelphia with Ben and Abigail the whole day without saying anything. Ben shook his head sadly. What kind of a person was he, if he couldn't even tell his friend was hurting? And now the cuts were infected. If Riley had let that go, he could have gotten very sick.

"He also said he fell down some stairs on the way here, which was most likely the cause for the sprained wrist and fractures."

"Fractures?" Ben said, now looking utterly horrified.

"_Minor_ fractures," the doctor assured him. "Two in his forearm and another to his collar bone. There was some tenderness in his side and hip, but none of the ribs or his pelvis were broken—just badly bruised. I've been able to rule out any sort of internal injury."

"That's good," Ben mumbled.

"Honestly," she continued as the sad smile turned into a concerned frown. "I'm surprised he was still moving around as much as he was. I should think most people as injured as he was would have been crying their eyes out over the pain."

"Riley's very good at hiding how he feels," Ben said monotonically, as he realized this for the first time himself.

The doctor nodded. "I see that, but still…his injuries were only made worse by hiding them."

Ben didn't say anything. All he could do was stare at his now comatose friend in disbelief. He couldn't tell if he felt more sympathetic to Riley and his battered body or angrier that Riley hadn't said anything about being hurt. All he did was complain, but he never complained about things that needed to be complained about. It was mind boggling.

"You'll just have to come back for a more in depth statement," Dr. Ellis was saying to the agents. "As for you, Mr. Gates…" She pulled a chair forward so it was in front of Riley's bed. "Have a seat. You might as well stay. Not like you can go anywhere else, right?"

"Right," Ben mumbled as he numbly took his seat. "Thanks."

* * *

_I'm sure it's not that easy to break into FBI headquarters, and I doubt that's what the building is like, but that's why we call this stuff "fiction" :)_


	6. A Happy Disney Ending

**Chapter VI: A Happy Disney Ending**

Abigail sank down into an empty seat with a relieved sigh. Here in her secluded corner towards the back of a train headed for Washington DC she was finally in the clear. She hugged the precious canister to her chest and couldn't help the contented smile that formed on her lips.

It had been a long night. She'd run from Ian with her prize to the nearest train station, where she tensely sat waiting for the first trains to come all the while ready to bolt with the Declaration if anyone approached her. But no one did, even as the early morning travelers slowly crowded the area around her. No one questioned the strange canister she clutched in white knuckled fists and she was able to board the first morning train back home without a problem. She would head straight to the National Archives and return the document to its rightful home and this whole mess would be behind her.

She made herself comfortable and let her eyes fall shut. The train wasn't leaving right away, but she didn't care. A little delay wouldn't affect her plans. In just a few hours she would be home and she would never have to see Ben Gates, or Ian, or Riley, or the rest of them ever again.

"Dr. Abigail Chase?"

She slowly opened her eyes and blinked rapidly to focus the image of two suited men staring down at her with grim expressions. Her eyes widened in surprise when she noticed the shiny badge in one of the men's hands.

"You're going to have to come with us, ma'am."

* * *

Bleary blue eyes opened just a crack.

"Hey, Riley! You waking up?"

"No…" Riley moaned softly and let his eyes fall shut again.

"Come on, Riley, wake up," a low voice was saying. "You don't want me to worry, do you?"

"Ugh, no…" he moaned again. He tried to move his arms to rub at his tired eyes only to find that his left arm was thoroughly numb underneath him and his right arm hurt when he moved even a little bit.

"Easy, kid. You don't want to hurt yourself."

Riley laid still again and let out a deep breath. He forced his eyes to open a little more and was met with a blurry face. "Ben…?"

"Yeah," Ben said with a relieved sigh. "It's me. Everything's okay."

Riley blinked and was finally able to see a little bit of his surroundings, noticing for the first time that he did not know where he was and he had no memory of how he got there. "Wh-where…"

"FBI headquarters. You busted in here last night, remember?"

Oh yeah, he thought. He remembered running around in the dark, in a panic, his only hope was to find Ben. And here Ben was. Riley smiled. "Yeah."

"That's good," Ben said as he ran a hand through his thinning hair. "You had me worried there for a second." Ben looked worried, and tired, and overall a lot older than he really was. "You've been out of it a lot longer than you were supposed to be. It's after noon already."

"Oh," Riley muttered. He tried to move again, to at least sit up and out of the somewhat awkward position he was lying in.

Ben saw what he was doing and moved to help, keeping a steady hand on Riley's uninjured side as he pushed himself up on the bed. Soon Riley was sitting up with his back supported by a number of pillows and his bandaged and splinted right arm draped over his stomach.

"So…" Riley said once his winces had died down and he'd succeeded at getting comfortable. "What did I miss?"

"Quite a bit, actually," Ben said. "After I told Sadusky what happened and where Ian was going, they had an FBI team ready to apprehend him at Trinity Church. Ian, Shaw, and the rest of them were arrested early this morning, less than three hours after you showed up here."

Riley smiled at that. "Oh man, I would _love_ to have seen the look on Ian's face when the feds got him."

"Yeah," Ben chuckled. "Me too."

"Did anybody find the treasure?"

"Not yet. Sadusky wanted me to help them look around the church, but I told them I wasn't going until I knew you would be able to come too."

Riley beamed. "Really?"

"Really," Ben said with a grin. "You have as much invested in this treasure hunt as I do. And after being nearly killed for it, I figured it just wouldn't be right to find it without you."

"Thanks, Ben," Riley said, his voice catching with emotion. "That means a lot to me."

Ben's expression turned very serious. "Well, I want you to know that I…I realize now that I haven't…_appreciated_ your help as much as I should. And when Ian got you and you were hurt…I was scared of losing you."

Riley blushed. Ben had no idea that that was all that Riley had ever wanted to hear. It made every little thing he did—every ridiculous situation he'd gotten into—Ben's words made it all alright. "Thanks, Ben," he whispered as he wiped away emotional tears that had suddenly formed in his eyes.

"Hey," Ben said after a moment of quiet reflection. "There's something I want to show you. Dr. Ellis?" The doctor appeared around the curtain with a warm smile on her face. Riley swiped at his eyes again, hoping the doctor wasn't reading too much into his and Ben's conversation or the tears that he was trying to hide. "Do you think we can get him out of here yet?"

"Hmm," she said as she leaned down to see Riley's face more clearly. "That depends. How are we feeling today, Riley?"

He sent her his most disarming smile. "Pretty darn good," he said cheerily. And he did feel good. With the exception of the stiffness he felt when he woke up, he was feeling a lot better than he had been.

"Well then," she said as she straightened up and looked over something on her clip board. "That's good enough for me. Your vitals have all checked out and I'm prescribing you some pain killers. Other than that you'll just need to take it easy and be looked over again to make sure the fractures heal and no other complications arise."

"Alright," Riley exclaimed as he started to throw the sheet off of his body. "Let's go—" He froze for a second and a bright blush arose in his cheeks as he pulled the sheet up again. "I'd like my clothes back, first," he muttered when he realized he was wearing nothing but the thin hospital gown.

The doctor grinned at him. "I don't think you'll want to be wearing the clothes you came in with again. Don't worry, though. The FBI has plenty to spare." She held out a bundle of folded clothes.

Riley took them and raised his eyebrows at Ben and the doctor. They stared back at him.

"A little privacy please?"

The doctor rolled her eyes and moved around the curtain and out of sight. Riley cleared his throat and Ben finally turned his back to his young friend.

After some initial struggling to maneuver in the bed with a bandaged arm and a very sore side, Riley managed to get boxers and a pair of baggy jeans on. Ben had to turn around again when Riley was getting his shirt on—he needed help with the buttons.

Once they'd gotten the somewhat oversized clothes on Riley's body, Riley moved to hop off the bed when he realized something very important.

"What about my—"

"These?" Dr. Ellis reappeared with his old Converse sneakers in her hands.

A relieved smile grew on Riley's face. "Thanks, doc."

"It's Rachelle."

"Uh, what is?"

She giggled. "My _name_. Doc sounds too…official. It's just Rachelle."

"That's a pretty name."

"Thanks. It's French." She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her lab coat and gently slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt. "You can come back and see me for your check ups, you know." She patted his chest gently and grinned at him.

Riley's eyes sparkled as a goofy smile grew on his face. "O-okey dokey."

Ben had to work very hard to contain his laughter as he helped Riley out of the room, waving good bye to Dr. Ellis as he did so.

"Alright, Riley," Ben said as he walked down the hall, keeping a firm but gentle hold around his friend's shoulders as he did so. "I want to show you something."

Riley was oblivious though. His mind was only on the paper he now held in his good hand as he stared at the seven digits that were scrawled on it. As much as he hated doctors and hospitals and being sick, he had to admit sometimes it paid to be the patient of a very caring, very attractive doctor.

"Riley," Ben said a little louder. "I wanted to show you what else was on the back of the Declaration…"

At that Riley snapped to attention. "But didn't Abigail…?"

Ben shook his head. "The FBI found her at Penn Station. She was taken into custody for having stolen government property as well as for conspiracy charges."

"Wow, really?"

"Yup. And we found something else with the Benjamin Franklin glasses."

Ben led Riley into a large meeting room, where Sadusky and a number of other agents were hovering over the document on the table.

"Ah, Mr. Poole," Sadusky said when he saw Ben and Riley. "Feeling better I see?"

"Yeah," Riley said, clearing his throat. "Thanks for everything and, you know, for not arresting me and stuff."

Sadusky chuckled. "Well we've got Ian Howe in custody and he's told us all we need to know. Whenever you're up to it, we'll take your statement, though I doubt it will change anything."

Riley frowned. Was that a good thing, or a bad thing?

Sadusky caught the confounded look on Riley's face. "As long as we can prove this so called treasure exists, it will prove that you and Mr. Gates were acting to protect a historical document from the hands of a terrorist and clear you of all charges."

"Oh," Riley said. It took a minute before it hit him. "So we get off and Ian's going to rot in jail?" Ben nodded. "Cool!"

"You want to see something cool," Ben said, holding out the ancient x-ray specs for Riley. "Take a look through these."

Riley beamed. He hadn't been able to see through the special glasses before, and using them now seemed like Ben's way of including Riley in what he'd been left out of previously.

"'Beneath Parkington Lane'…" Riley mumbled, now unable to remove the wide smile from his face. "Where the heck is that?"

_

* * *

_

Three months later…

"Yeah, you got it chief, thank you," Riley said as he snapped his phone shut and pushed himself up off of Ben's sofa. "They want us in Cairo for the exhibit opening. They're sending a private jet."

"That's nice of them," Ben said. He led Riley through the hall to the foyer of the large house.

"Oh, yeah…it's great. We could have had a whole _fleet_ of private jets," he complained. "Ten percent, Ben. They offered you _ten_ _percent_ and you turned them down."

"It was too much, Riley."

"Yeah, well, next time I'll pick how much we get."

Ben grinned at him. "_Next _time?"

They walked out of the front door of the mansion and into the bright, summer sunlight. Riley only had eyes for his bright red convertible and the beautiful red headed girl in a green sundress standing in front of it.

Riley smirked. "Hey, Honey Bunny." He strolled down the front steps and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for waiting."

"No problem, Pumpkin," Rachelle said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately on the lips.

"At least you got the girl," Ben said as he looked down at the pair from his front door. He wasn't bitter, really—he'd meant it only as a joke. They really did make a cute couple and he honestly couldn't be happier for them.

Riley grinned widely at his girlfriend. "Yeah I did. But still..._one percent_?! Not even one percent…_half _of one percent…"

Rachelle nudged him playfully on the shoulder.

"Yeah, okay…I got the girl. That's worth like—a _hundred_ and ten percent."

He kissed her again and opened the door to the passenger's side of his convertible and gestured gentlemanly for her to go in. She grinned at him and took her seat while Riley completely bypassed his own door and hopped into the driver's seat. He slipped his shiny new sunglasses on his face and looked up at his friend with a content smile.

"Oh, and for the record Ben—I like the house."

"You know, I chose this estate because in—"

"Yeah, yeah…someone somewhere in history did something fun, I get it. You could have had a bigger house," he teased as he started the Ferrari and pulled away.

Ben chuckled and shook his head as he watched the car run over the front lawn while Riley tried to maneuver around the drive way. He heard Rachelle's and Riley's laughter as the car straightened out and sped away from the property.

Once they were out of sight, Ben sighed and turned back to his mansion, smile still on his face that his friend had gotten the happy ending he deserved. And as for Ben, he was just content to be alone with a good book while he daydreamed about future treasure hunting endeavors.

END

* * *

_So this was obviously the "Riley gets a girlfriend" story. I remember when I wrote this stuff that with all the crap I put Riley through in other stories I figured I might as well give him a girlfriend and a happy ending for one story :)_

_Four down, only one to go. _


End file.
